


Happy Birthday, Pogo!

by angermissmgt



Series: That sinking feeling in the Sinking City [1]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Nine Inch Nails (Band), Trent Reznor - Fandom
Genre: ACSS, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5897470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angermissmgt/pseuds/angermissmgt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Pogo's Birthday! Set during the recording of Antichrist Superstar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Marilyn Manson, or any members (past or present). Written as entertainment, for entertainment. I make no money for writing anything, like, ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strong language, drug/alcohol use/abuse, sexual and adult themes.

March 6, 1996

 

 

Stephen was awoken by a soft voice in his ear, calling his name breathlessly, “Stephen, wake up.”

He cracked open one eye, and saw a bleary outline of his friend, and impromptu roommate of the past month, Trista, standing over him. He opened his other eye to see her more clearly, “What the fuck, T? It’s not time for me to get up yet…”

She threw her arms in the air and shouted, “Happy Birthday! Now, get up, I made breakfast, and it’s getting cold.”

He scowled at her back as she walked out of his room, thinking about rolling back over to try to get a couple minutes more of rest, but thought better of it; Trista would just come back in, and throw the covers off of him if he didn’t get up. He really didn’t want that to happen, so he waited until he could hear her moving around in the kitchen of the small one-bedroom flat to get up and pull on a pair of well-worn jeans and black tee-shirt, taking his socks and boots with him to the table that had never been used for anything more than storing mail and playing drinking games on. “You’re up mighty early, T.”

Trista poured them both a mug of coffee, “I wanted to make sure your day started out right.”

He laced up his boots, “A blowjob would have been a much better wake-up call…”

She cracked a smile as she set the mugs on the table, and shot back with, “Kinda hard to do when you sleep on your stomach.” She came back to the table with a plate for each of them, “Never mind the fact that doing that would ruin my appetite. “

Stephen picked up a piece of bacon, “So much for gratitude…” He took a bite, “Seriously, you didn’t have to do any of this for me.”

She took a drink out of her mug, “You didn’t have to give me a place to run away to either. It’s your birthday, we’re friends, we take care of each other; if I hadn’t made you a meal today, you’d bitched about it.”

Stephen laughed, “You’re right; as a woman, your rightful place is in the kitchen, since you refuse to do anything for me sexually.” She threw a balled up paper towel across the table at him, which hit him on the top of his head, since he was looking down at his plate to eat, “Hey now, it’s my birthday; and you should be used to the sexual harassment by now. We’ve been friends for almost 8 years, it’s only going to get worse as time goes on.”

Trista sighed and rolled her eyes, “At least I know you’re joking.”

Stephen swallowed the eggs in his mouth, “I’m not completely serious, but if you were to ever offer a blowjob, or even a fucking hand job, I’d take it; it’s a guy thing.”

Trista laughed, “Never gonna happen, Stephen; it didn’t happen any of the times you got me drunk, it sure as hell isn’t going to happen just because it’s your birthday, and you happen to let me stay here rent free.”

Stephen shrugged, “A guy can dream, can’t he?”

Trista shook her head, “Why did I ever think coming to stay here was a good idea?”

“Who else would let you crash on their couch for over a month with no rent, utilities, or grocery money?” Stephen finished off his coffee, “You’re a broke ass design school dropout, with no job or prospects; I’m probably one of the nicest people you know, of course you’d take advantage of my kind and humble nature.”

Trista shook her head, “I recall you telling me you were mighty lonely here, so having a friend that isn’t also a part of the band would be refreshing and good for your morale. Maybe I heard wrong, but I’m pretty sure that was part of the reason I decided to come here, instead of living with my parents.”

“I just said that so you’d pity fuck me.”

They shared a laugh at that, “Dude, I know you; you have very little problem getting laid, and you most certainly don’t need anyone to pity fuck you.”

Stephen cocked a shaved brow at that, “Is that a compliment? Are you saying I’m fuckable?”

Trista sighed, “Stephen, seriously.” She got up and took her plate to the sink, rinsing the food crumbs off it, “I’ve talked to the chicks you’ve dated, pity fucking isn’t something you go for, nor do you need to; you’re not without your charms.”

“That means I’m fuckable, right? Put it in words I can understand.”

She laughed and turned around, “Sure, but I would never fuck you; pretty sure we’ve both agreed that doing that would not be good for our friendship.” She walked back to the table and picked up his plate, carrying it to the sink, “I’m going to do these dishes.”

Stephen got up, “I’ll wash, you can rinse; it’s only fair since you cooked.”

 

They were just finishing up when someone knocked on the door, Stephen looked at the clock and realized that it must have been Kenny to pick him up to take him to the studio, since his car was in the shop. He shook the suds off his hands and into Trista’s hair, earning him a scowl and sigh from her. He called over his shoulder to her, “It’s my birthday! You can’t get mad at me!” He opened the door to see Kenny standing there, “C’mon in, we have a few minutes if you want some coffee.”

Kenny stepped into the kitchen and to the coffee pot, Trista handed him a coffee mug she had just gotten done drying off, “Thanks.” He poured his coffee and added some sugar, then turned to Stephen, “Happy birthday, Pogo.”

Stephen sighed, “I’m gonna get so tired of hearing that today.” Kenny smiled and took a drink of his coffee, “Why couldn’t you just be a friend and take me to a strip club and buy me a private dance instead of well wishes?”

Trista snorted while Kenny laughed, “Are we that good of friends?”

Stephen glared, “I thought we were, but now I guess I have to reevaluate our relationship.”

Kenny smirked, “I heard a rumor- “

Stephen cut him off, “I know, I know Brian and Jeordie have been planning something for today; thing is, the stripper they’re likely to hire will be even uglier than the ones working at the club this time of the morning.”

Trista turned around, “Seriously?”

Kenny laughed while Stephen just looked at her, “Yeah, this time of day, they’re all sweaty and strung out; you can’t even get a decent hand job from one ‘cause their hands are tired.”

Trista crossed her arms under her tits, “You are so ridiculous, I’m glad I know you’re mostly full of shit.”

Stephen gestured to her while looking at Kenny, “You seeing this? It’s my fucking birthday, and she’s saying I’m full of shit.”

Kenny rinsed out his mug, “I have to agree with her. We better get going, I don’t want to listen to Brian bitch about us being late, even though we get there before him every day.”

Stephen pointed to Trista, “I’ll see you tonight, we’re going out to a bar and you’re actually coming out with us this time, toots! Look sexy for me.”

Trista smirked, “I’ll be sure to give you something to put in your spank bank.”

Kenny laughed and Stephen gave her a thumbs up as they walked out the door and to Kenny’s car. When they got in, Kenny reached in the back seat and grabbed a small gift bag, “I meant to bring this in, but now is better than when we get to the studio.”

“Really, a gift? This is so gay…thanks!” Stephen opened the bag and found a couple books inside, “Cool, these will come in handy soon, since I’m mostly done with my work on this album.”

Kenny smirked, “Trent has said you’re more than half way done with your parts; why do you show up every day if you don’t need to?”

Stephen shrugged, “It’s not my fault that Brian has been really slow about getting his shit done; and by slow, I mean staying way too strung out on coke and pills to concentrate on writing or singing anything of quality…. That, and I’d get bored if I just stayed in my apartment all the time; there’s only so much harassment Trista will take, and only so many ways I can joke about her giving me a bj before she decides to kill me and stash my body in the freezer.”

Kenny laughed, “What, so she can eat it later?”

“Nah, if she won’t even stick my dick in her mouth, why would she put any other part of me inside her?” Stephen lit a cigarette, “Mainly so she can continue to stay there rent free; at least until my long absence is noticed and reported.”

“You’d only have to miss a day or two at the studio for anyone to become suspicious.”

“Oh, she’d find a way… She’s a crafty one, that girl is.” Stephen smirked around his cigarette butt, “Seriously, if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t get to pester Trent and Dave about recording techniques and you about sound engineering; this record could take us years, and I’d still show up every fucking day, so long as I get to learn new shit.”

Kenny pulled into the driveway of the studio, an old morgue on the outskirts of New Orleans that had been remodeled and turned into a state of the art recording studio for Nothing Records, and buzzed in at the intercom at the gate, stating, “It’s us,” before turning back to Stephen as Dave buzzed open the gate to let them in, “Don’t fucking jinx it, Pogo; if we don’t make some real progress soon, things won’t be looking good for us as a band… Trent has already made it clear that he wants us to move forward, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s frustrating to be sure… Most of us can party part time, and still get shit done; Brian and Jeordie seem to ignore the fact that we are wasting time and money by not finishing songs at a fast enough rate.” Kenny parked the car and they both got out after the engine was shut off, “It doesn’t make much sense for us to keep working on an album that hasn’t gotten one song complete for a month now. When we recorded the last e.p., it took us weeks, and we had it done; I have ADD, and I’m done, for the most part, and so are you and Scott. We know what direction this is supposed to be going in, but without clear lyrics, our compositions are really kind of lacking that punch. “

They walked in the door, and were greeted by Dave Ogilvie, the co-producer and sound tech that worked for Trent, who was playing Doom while he waited for the band to show up so they could get to work, “You two aren’t the first ones here today; Scott is upstairs with Trent.” He paused his game, “A little birdy told me it’s your birthday, Pogo.”

“It is the anniversary of the day I came out of my mother’s vagina, yep.”

Kenny laughed, while Dave made a sour sort of face, “No need to be so vulgar about it.”

Stephen shrugged, “You Canadians are kinda weird about your puritism, eh? And I thought we Yanks were bad about being squeamish about the ‘v’ word.”

Trent walked into the lobby from the kitchen area, “I should have known it’d be the two of you, instead of Brian or Jeordie; Scott’s been here for about ten minutes, and he’s been driving me fucking crazy talking about his ideas for song composition and what he sees as the direction for this album. If I have to listen to any more hackneyed rifts from him, I’m going to smash his fucking guitar over the sound board.”

Stephen and Kenny shared a look, then looked back at Trent, who was obviously annoyed and looking for someone to keep Scott away from him for a few hours so he didn’t break expensive equipment; seeing as guitarists were replaceable, but sound boards and monitors weren’t. Dave went back to his game, the silence being broken by digital gun shots and the sounds of demons screaming as they died the virtual death. Trent sighed and walked to the stair case that led to the studio when he realized that neither Stephen or Kenny were going to keep Scott, and his optimism about the record that was slowly dying, at bay.

They followed Trent up to the main room, where Scott had his guitar plugged up into his old four track recorder as he played riffs into it, trying to figure out where he wanted to go next; he looked up when Stephen and Kenny walked through the door, took off his head phones and smiled, “Hey, I was hoping to see you guys soon; want to hear what I’ve been working on the past few hours?”

Trent looked to Stephen pointedly, but he acted as though he didn’t notice, “I think I’m gonna step outside and have a smoke…”

Kenny made a face, “I’ve gotta take a massive shit.” Then he headed to the bathroom and closed and locked the door.

The look on Trent’s face told Stephen that he was hated, so he offered Trent the reprieve he needed, however short it was. “Want to smoke a birthday bowl with me, Scott? I can listen to your riffs after, then maybe Brian or Jeordie will be here so we can get some real work done.”

Scott set his guitar down and stood up, “Yeah, I can do that.” They walked back down to the kitchen, where Stephen kept his studio stash and pipe, while Scott talked about how he found similarities between the direction of one of the songs and the musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, which Stephen couldn’t understand, so he just nodded while he got his pot and pipe, walking to the back door so they could smoke. “This is going to be a great album though; don’t you think?”

Stephen took a hit and handed the pipe to Scott, and nodded before exhaling, “It will be,” with the afterthought of ‘if it ever gets finished.’

Scott took a small hit, and coughed on the strong weed, Stephen just cocked a nonexistent brow at him; Scott smoked like a chimney, but pot fucked his lungs up. “This stuff is killer.” Stephen took a hit and held onto the pipe; it was his birthday, and he’d be damned if his expensive marijuana was wasted by a light weight like Scott Putesky. Scott got a goofy grin, already buzzed, “Sorry I didn’t get you a present, but happy birthday, none the less.”

Stephen smirked and took another hit, handing the pipe over to Scott, so he could have another hit, “Thanks. You don’t have to get me anything, you know that; we’ve been friends long enough for you to know that. Just come out tonight and party with us, have a couple beers with me and the rest of the guys.”

Scott was known as the stick in the mud of the band, he didn’t really party much, if ever; so he looked pensive at Stephen’s request, “I don’t know- “

Stephen took a hit, and found the bowl cashed, but since he was buzzed, he decided against smoking any more. He emptied the pipe of any ash, “C’mon man, it’s my birthday, and this is all I ask of you; come out with us, listen to a shitty cover band that’s likely to be playing at the bar, and have a couple beers with us, it’ll be fun!”

Jeordie stuck his head out the door, “Hey, Pogo! Happy birthday!” He stepped outside, “Is there anything left in there? I could use a buzz.”

Stephen shook his head, “Nope, cashed, and I’m done and about to go inside. Is Brian here yet?”

Jeordie walked up to Stephen and Scott, “Yeah, he’s in there arguing with Trent. Want to load it up some? You don’t look high.”

“Nope, I’m as high as I need to be for now.”

Jeordie snatched the pipe from Stephen’s hand and picked up the bag that had the pot in it off the table, and loaded it up, “I just want a couple hits; can I see your lighter?”

Stephen glared at Jeordie, “I could set you on fire, and you could light the bowl that way...” Scott handed Jeordie his lighter, so Stephen turned his glare to him, “What the fuck, Scott?”

“I don’t want anyone fighting over something as stupid as a lighter; the tension is bad enough as it is.”

Stephen rolled his eyes and took the bowl from Jeordie when it was passed to him, taking a hit. Jeordie held his hand out for the pipe after Stephen took his hit, but Stephen ignored him and hit it a second time, “You fucking bogart…”

Stephen took a third hit, cashing out the bowl, “It’s my fucking pot, stick with your speed if you need a high so badly.” With that said, Stephen picked up the bag of weed off the little table and walked back to the door, Scott following behind him.

Once inside, they could hear Trent and Brian arguing about the day’s schedule in the lobby; Trent wanted to get some work done before any partying happened, while Brian thought since it was Stephen’s birthday, they should take the whole day off to party and get wasted. Jeordie walked back inside, slamming the door, “I don’t know what your problem is Pogo, but you need to chill out some; being such a dick all the time must be fucking exhausting.”

Stephen ignored Jeordie as he walked to the lobby, so that he could tell Brian that he wanted to get some work done before anything else. He walked in and saw Trent was red in the face from holding in his anger and frustration as best he could, while Brian looked passive and calm, save for his clenched jaw. It came as no surprise to Stephen that Dave was still playing Doom while this had been taking place. “I want to get some work done.”

Trent turned around, giving Stephen a look of thanks; but Brian looked annoyed at that, “It’s your birthday- “

Stephen nodded, “It is, and I really want you and Jeordie to get to work finishing up a song, so that this day isn’t a total fucking waste.” Dave paused his game, looking at Trent while Brian opened his mouth, but Stephen cut him off, “C’mon, don’t give us any shit today; we’ll work a couple hours, then we can start the party. If we don’t get anything done, I’m fucking leaving and going to a strip club; it’s my birthday, after all. “

Stephen walked up the stairs, having spoken his mind, sliding past Kenny, who was standing on the third step; Trent turned back to Brian and nodded, “You heard the birthday boy- we work for a while, then we can do whatever you have planned.” Trent started his way upstairs, followed by Dave, Kenny and Scott, so that they could get set up to record vocals. Trent slapped Stephen on the shoulder, “Happy birthday.”

 

They worked until noon, then broke for lunch; Brian had gotten vocals for two songs mostly done, and Jeordie had gotten a few of his parts taken care of. While Trent and Dave had been working at the sound board, Stephen had listened to Scott’s four-track recorded riffs, and helped Kenny and Dave change the set-up of microphones and monitors between Brian’s and Jeordie’s takes. The day had been going pretty well, but he could tell that Brian was wanting to get on with the party plans, while he heard Jeordie on the phone with Casey, the dealer that took care of all their needs.

After lunch had been mostly eaten, Brian walked to the front door when he heard the familiar buzz of the intercom, and walked back in with his girlfriend, Missy a few minutes later; she had a bakery box in hand, while he carried a little paper bag, “I’m too fucking old for a birthday cake, for fuck’s sake,” Stephen told them; they ignored him, while they hid the cake from his view, Jeordie giggling like a little girl when he saw it.

Trent smirked when he saw it, as he rinsed off his plate, “How old are you, Pogo?”

Stephen scowled and Scott smiled, “32.”

Missy turned around, cake held at waist level, well over 32 candles lit on it, “Happy birthday!” She set down the cake in front of him; it was shaped like a penis, and had ‘Happy birthday, Faggot!’ written on it happily with pink icing, “Blow out the candles and make a wish.”

Stephen smirked, and blew out the candles, though it took a couple tries, “I wish you’d all fuck off.” With that, the cake was cut and served, along with beer and liquor. Missy kissed Stephen’s cheek, “You leaving?”

She smiled, “I’ll see you later tonight, I wasted my lunch break to bring you your cake.”

She patted his shoulder and walked over to Brian, sharing a quiet kiss and goodbye with him before waving to the room and leaving. The buzzer sounded a few minutes after she left, Jeordie jumping up and running to the door, so he could go out to meet Casey, and get whatever drugs he’d ordered; no one bothered to tell him he had white icing around his mouth, everyone laughing at him after he’d left.

Stephen was joking about how the cream filled penis cake was much better than the tuna stuffed vagina cake when Jeordie came back into the kitchen; he threw down a half ounce of bud in front of Stephen, along with a couple cigars, “Happy birthday!”

Stephen picked up the bag, opening and smelling the product, “Damn, Jeords; thanks.” He unwrapped one of the cigars and pulled out his pocket knife, slicing one side of the cigar to empty the tobacco out of it, “Someone cut that bud up, we’re smoking a blunt!”

Kenny grabbed a pair of scissors from one of the kitchen drawers and took the bag that was in front of Stephen, pulling a bud out and exclaimed, “Jesus, this shit is sticky.”

Jeordie put down the bottle of whiskey he’d been taking nips out of, “So is your girlfriend’s pussy.” Kenny back handed Jeordie in the dick, “Shit, Ken! Asshole… it was a joke.”

Jeordie walked away once Kenny leveled a glare at him, and came back with his preferred snorting surface: a framed fan drawing of Trent, that he claimed looked like one of his old bosses. Brian and Jeordie set about cutting lines of coke onto the glass while Trent went through the cupboards, “I know we have some shot glasses around here, somewhere…” He found them and set them on the table next to the bottle of Jack Daniels that Jeordie had been drinking from, “No one drink strait from the bottle anymore; you want a drink, poor a fucking shot.” He looked at Jeordie, “That goes for you too, Jeordie.”

Jeordie rolled his eyes as Brian rolled up a bill, “’Kay, mom.” Trent grabbed the rolled up bill from Brian and bent over the rows of blow lined up, one going up one nostril, another line disappearing up the other, “Fucking asshole! Two rails?”

Trent threw his head back and handed the rolled up bill to Brian, who was laughing at the look on Jeordie’s face, “Calm down, Jeordie, there’s plenty; not to mention, it’s technically his blow anyways.”

Stephen sealed up the blunt and inspected his handy work, “Meh, it’ll work… haven’t rolled a blunt since college.” He saw Brian bend over the picture with the bill up his nose, “I’m next; can’t believe you fuckers started the snow storm without me!”

Brian tilted his head back and handed the bill to Stephen, “Have at it, Pogo.”

Stephen bent over the picture and snorted half a line up each nostril; when he stood up again, he saw Jeordie scowling, “I thought you didn’t like coke.”

“I like coke, just not as much as you.” He held the bill out to Scott, who just shook his head; then Kenny, who shrugged and took it, snorting a line himself. Stephen poured each of them a shot of Jack, “Let’s down these, then smoke this blunt.”

Everyone downed their whiskey, except Scott, “I’m okay with my beer.”

Jeordie snorted a line really quick, while Stephen downed the shot he’d poured for Scott, “Fine by me; but you’re smoking this blunt with us.” Stephen looked at Trent, who was bent back over the coke, “We okay smoking inside, or do you prefer we do this out back?”

Trent stood up strait again, “As long as we keep it downstairs, I don’t have a problem with you smoking inside today; no cigarettes though.”

Stephen muttered around the blunt as he lit it, “Fair enough.”

 

They smoked the blunt, then they all split up; Brian and Jeordie staying near the cocaine, Scott playing his guitar into his four track in the lobby, and Trent, Kenny, Stephen and Dave upstairs, sitting in the control room, shooting the shit while drinking beer. Stephen loved sitting with Trent and Dave, who had tons of practical and working knowledge of recording hardware and software, and Kenny, who’d been formally trained in sound engineering for years before joining the band as a live drummer. They offered him tons of information and insight into a world he was vastly interested in, and he still had tons to learn from all of them. He had spent six years in college, studying first aerospace engineering, then industrial engineering, with a specialty in robotics, but music had always been something he’d had a passion for, but not something he’d thought he’d be able to pursue full time, until a few years ago; when they’d opened for Nine Inch Nails in a seedy club in southern Florida, and Trent had shown an interest in what they were doing as a band.

Trent knocked back the last of his beer, “Pogo, since it’s your birthday, I have a surprise for you.”

Stephen grinned, “Kinky.”

Trent rolled his eyes while everyone else laughed, “No, not that, asshole. Dave and I have been trying to figure this out for the past week, but can’t agree on what needs done to this track; we even brought in Chris, but he’s been less than helpful. You’ve got a good ear, maybe you can help us get this job done.”

Trent brought his computer back to life and brought up a track before Stephen was able to read the title, “Is this concerning our album, or something else?”

Dave smirked, “You’re in for a treat, man; this has nothing to do with any of your unfinished tracks.”

Music started playing over the speakers in the room, unfamiliar to Stephen and Kenny; Kenny leaned back and closed his eyes to the melody while Stephen stayed alert, especially after the vocals came in, the voice of David Bowie filling the room. Stephen opened his mouth, to ask what the fuck was going on, but was silenced by Trent’s look telling him to listen to the track and tell them what needed done to it. The track ended before anyone spoke, and all Stephen could think to say was, “What’s wrong with it?”

Trent sighed and Dave smiled, “Play it again, but make him wear the earphones this time.”

Trent plugged up the earphones and handed them to Stephen without a word, and Stephen put them on, honored to be asked his honest opinion about this track by one of his favorite artists; but he kept his expression as neutral as he could, not wanting his fandom to give him any bias against the job he’d been given. Trent started the track again, and once the vocal tracks started, Stephen could hear the lack balance of distortion between the tracks, and turned the knobs he knew worked for certain tracks, missing the smiles shared between Trent and Dave.

The track was over long after Stephen had balanced the distortion on the vocal and instrumental tracks, making the song sound much more listenable to anyone listening to it, and looked up to see  
Trent smiling at him, “You don’t even know what it sounds like, why the fuck are you smiling at me like that?”

“You’ve learned a lot over the past month, not to mention what you learned during the recording of Smells Like Children; you know music as a fan first most, so you can hear things we may miss as producers.” Trent unplugged the earphone jack and started the track over the studio speakers to hear the final product of manipulations, his smile growing as the end of the song came upon them, “That’s what I was wanting to hear out of this remix; what about you, Ogilivie?”

Dave nodded, smiling in the same way as Trent, “Sounds like a well-balanced song now; why didn’t we hear that before now?”

Trent stood with a shrug, “I’m grabbing another beer.”

Trent walked downstairs and Dave turned back to Stephen, “You ever thought of just becoming a producer?”

Stephen finished his beer, “What fun is that shit? I haven’t seen the world yet, haven’t fucked a woman on every continent; you’re trying to rob me of real experiences Dave, and that’s pretty shitty of you.” Dave cracked a smile and shook his head, “I like touring, sure it sucks at times, but that’s fucking life; sitting in a studio has its moments too. Honestly, I have fun on the road, and in the studio- I’m just a fun guy.” Stephen stood up, “I’m gonna get another beer, too. Either of you want anything while I’m down there?”

Kenny shook his head, “I need to sober up some.”

Trent came back up the stairs, carrying four more bottles of beer, “I beat you to it.” He handed them around, “Before you sit back on your ass Pogo, I have another surprise for you.”

Stephen took a swig of his beer, “This is the kinky part, right?”

Trent just looked at him, “No.”

“This birthday fucking sucks, I haven’t gotten a blowjob yet, no kinky surprise from Trent… You guys really need to step it up in the party department next time.”

Trent sighed, “Just, follow me to the supply room, Pogo.”

“I thought you said this wasn’t going to be kinky.” Trent turned around and glared at Stephen, making everyone else in the room laugh, “Okay, Jesus Christ on a cracker. You are kinda cute when you’re annoyed though, you know that, right?”

Trent sighed and turned back around, shaking his head and continuing on his way to the room that the equipment was kept in, “I have something in here, to reimburse you for your work on the Bowie track; and, no, it’s not a blowjob, or kinky, or any sort of other queer thing you seem obsessed with.”

Trent looked through the shelves of instruments, monitors, and various other pieces of equipment that were stored in the large closet-like room; Stephen stood near the door, looking around in awe, “Fuck, this is like a wet dream.”

Trent smiled and shook his head, “You are a big-ass nerd, aren’t you?”

“I went to college for six years, studying two branches of engineering; what the fuck do you think?”

Trent had found what he was looking for and gestured to Stephen to come over to him, “I think you’re probably wasting your intelligence and talent working in a band the way you are.”

Stephen walked over to Trent, “You sound like my dad when I told him I was quitting my job to do this shit full time, only a lot fucking nicer.”

Trent laughed and pointed to a Nord Lead keyboard, “It’s yours, help me get it out of here.”

“Isn’t this the one you used on your last tour?” Trent just nodded, still waiting for Stephen to help him carry it out to the live room, “I don’t know if I can accept this or not…”

Trent crossed his arms, “You’re going to help me carry this damned thing out there, and set it up in the live room so that you can try it out; if you don’t like it, we can come back in here, and I’ll find something else to reimburse you with.”

“Just give me credit on the track.”

“I’m planning on it, asshole; I’m also paying you with equipment, as seems only fair.”

Stephen sighed, “Fine, twist my arm…”

Trent closed and secured the top of the case, then they each grabbed an end and carried it out to the control room, “Dave, get the door, please.”

Dave stood up and opened the door to the live room, “Do you want me to help you guys get that set up?”

The phone started ringing, and Trent sighed, “No, just answer the phone, we’ve got this.” Dave walked to the phone and Trent and Stephen set the case down near Stephen’s keyboard stand; Trent opening the case as Stephen put away the keyboard he had set up on the stand, “This has a few different patches on it, you can have those too.” Stephen started to protest, but Trent looked up at him, “Consider them a birthday gift; either way, just shut the fuck up and hook this thing up, I know you know how to do that.”

Stephen set the keyboard on his stand, and started plugging in wires, as Trent made his way back to the control room, “Fucking pushy, Mr. Reznor…”

Trent called over his shoulder, “Fuck you, Bier,” before closing the sound-proofing door.

Stephen chuckled and stood behind the keyboard once he was done hooking up all the wires, he could see Trent and Dave sitting in their normal spots at the control panel, Kenny was on the phone with his shoulders hunched slightly, “So, what’s the plan? You going to start a track, or am I just fucking around?”

Trent pressed the button on the control panel that allowed him to be heard in the live room, “Just start fucking around with it, see if you like the way it sounds and feels.” Stephen shrugged and started pressing keys and turning knobs to change effects and distortion, until he saw Kenny walk back over to Trent and Dave, worry on his face; Trent listened to what Kenny had to say, then told Stephen, “Come on out here for a few minutes, Stephen.”

Stephen walked out of the live room, “What’s up?”

Kenny looked toward the doorway that lead to the stair case, “I think we need to talk about this as a band…”

“Everything okay?”

Kenny just shook his head and started his way toward the stair case, Trent and Stephen following while Dave cleaned up the control room some. When they got to the lobby, they saw Scott was still playing his guitar, and that Brian and Jeordie were playing Doom together while giggling and high. Trent cleared his throat, gaining the attention of Brian and Jeordie, who paused the game, Stephen tapped on Scott’s shoulder, then crossed his arms loosely over his chest while Scott took off his head phones and laid his guitar over his lap. Trent sighed as he rubbed his face, “Kenny has an announcement.”

Everyone looked to Kenny, who looked like he was about to be sick with worry, “I’m going back to Las Vegas- “

Brian stood up, “What the fuck, we’re in the middle of recording a fucking record!”

Trent went to say something, but Kenny went red in the face, “My mom just called me from the fucking hospital, asshole! My dad had a heart attack!”

Jeordie fell back into the couch, “Fuck.”

Stephen sighed, “Shit, Ken, what are you still doing here? If it were me, I’d had just fucking left without a word to any of you fuckers ‘til I got back home…”

Scott nodded, “I’m with Stephen, you should leave so you can get to your family as fast as you can.”

Brian snorted, “I see how seriously you guys take this album now.”

Everyone turned to Brian, Kenny about to have another outburst, but Stephen took a step towards Brian, “Really? ‘Cause the three of us are always here, on fucking time, or early really; writing, recording, or giving each other feedback on tracks. Tracks that go unfinished because when you do fucking show up, you get too fucking high to do anything decent, if you even try to work at all.” Stephen turned back to Kenny, placing a hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture, “C’mon, you’re leaving so that you can go take care of your family.”

Stephen and Kenny started towards the door, and didn’t bother to turn back around when they heard Brian say, “How the fuck are we going to finish those drum tracks if he’s gone for who knows how long?”

Before they walked out the door, they could hear Trent’s answer, “I’ll call Chris, he can finish up the rest of the drum tracks, and help with the other work Ken does.”

They walked out the door and Kenny looked to Stephen, “I need a smoke…” Stephen pulled out his pack and handed it to Kenny, along with his lighter, “Thanks, I thought I’d had this habit kicked…”

Kenny lit a cigarette and handed the pack and lighter back to Stephen, “Don’t mention it.” Stephen lit one of his own and handed the pack back to Kenny, “In case you need another on the way to the airport; I have a carton at home, and can bum off Scott or Dave if need be until then.”

Kenny took a drag and let the smoke out slowly, a small smirk pulled on his lips, then fell into a frown, “You really laid into Brian pretty hard.”

Stephen muttered around his cigarette, “He deserved everything I said.” He took a drag, smoke streaming out of his mouth with his words, “I mean it, I’d had just fucking left as soon as I heard the news, and called you guys from my parent’s house a couple days later.”

Kenny twirled the cigarette between his thumb and middle finger before taking the last drag off it, “I could be fired though; unlike you, I don’t have any real say what happens to the band, since I’m not part of the original group.”

They finally made it to Kenny’s car, and Stephen finished his smoke, smashing it out under his boot, “Fair enough, though I doubt you’d be fired for this; Scott and I have your back on this one.”

Kenny smiled slightly, but only for a couple seconds, “Thanks; sorry you’ll have to ride in with someone else from now on.”

Stephen shrugged, “My car will be ready in a couple days; I may take the time off, stay away from Brian if he’s too pissed off, ya know.”

Kenny smirked and nodded, “You’ll be back here, bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“You’re right, I don’t give a shit if that guy is pissed off at me or not. Get out of here, Ken, you still have to pack and get your ticket and shit; no telling how many hours you’ll have to wait for a flight.”

Kenny sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. This fucking sucks.” He opened the driver side door and reached in, grabbing the gift bag, “I’d feel even more like shit if I ran off with these.”

Kenny went to hand the bag to Stephen, but Stephen just shook his head, “I didn’t say anything before, because it’d had been rude and made me look like a huge asshole, but I’ve already read those; you’re gonna need the distraction on the plane and shit.” Kenny nodded and sat in the driver seat, “You okay to drive?”

Kenny nodded again, “Yeah, that phone call was sobering enough; you tearing Brian a new asshole finished the job.”

“Be careful. Do the friend thing, and call so that we know you made it safe, and how your pops is doing.”

Kenny nodded, giving another small, fleeting smile, “Thanks Stephen, I’ll do that. You go do some damage control, I gotta get out of here before I lose my nerve to head to the airport.”

Kenny closed the car door and Stephen stepped back, walking back to the studio, though he turned to wave to Kenny when he heard him backing out. Once he got back to the door, Scott was outside, smoking; Stephen cringed, remembering that Scott only smoked filter-less Pall Malls. Scott exhaled the smoke in his lungs, “How’s he doing?”

Stephen sat on the stoop next to Scott, “He’s worried, but he’ll be fine; how’s things in there?”

Dave came out and lit a smoke up, having heard Stephen’s question, “A fucking mess.”

Stephen sighed and looked up to Dave, since he was standing on the step above where he and Scott were sitting, “Can I bum one of those, man? I gave Ken my pack, to help his nerves ya know…”

Dave dropped the pack on Stephen’s lap, “I have another pack, and there’s only a couple left in there, you’re welcome to them.”

Stephen opened the pack, it was just under half full, “Thanks.” He took one out and lit it as Trent stepped outside, even though he didn’t smoke, “This day has really turned to shit.”

Trent leaned against the railing of the porch, “This is manageable.”

Stephen and Scott looked up to Trent, as they hadn’t noticed him coming out; Stephen asked, “You called Chris?”

Trent nodded, “He’ll be in tomorrow.” Trent looked to Stephen, “You should take a couple days, stay out of the studio.”

Stephen licked his lips, then took another drag, “B.W. is that pissed, huh?”

Scott laughed lightly, while Trent rolled his eyes, “Yeah, he said if he comes in, and sees you’re here, he’ll just turn right back around and leave.”

Dave looked down to Stephen, “I must be missing something, why B.W.?”

Scott laughed harder this time, while Stephen smirked, “It’s his initials, but mainly we use it for short hand for Big Weiner, and we’re not talking about his dick size either.”

Trent shook his head and walked back inside while Dave gave a chuckle, “Cute. Seriously though, he’s pretty fucking miffed at what you told him.” Dave flicked his cigarette butt out from the porch, “I heard what you said; I told you, you’d make a hell of a producer.”

Dave turned and walked back inside, leaving Scott staring at Stephen, “What the hell is he talking about?”

Stephen scratched the back of his head, “Just something we were talking about earlier, while we were shooting the shit up in the control room.” Stephen turned to Scott, and changed the subject completely, “Can you give me a ride home when we leave?”

Scott nodded, “I thought we were going to a bar after this though.”

“We are, but I want to change, and I have to get Trista, since she’s coming out tonight, too.”

Scott leaned back some, “When did she get here?”

Stephen lit another cigarette, “About a month ago. It’s a long fucking story, and I really don’t feel like sharing it with anyone.”

Scott lit another smoke too, “I can’t believe you said that to Brian.”

“I was just saying what we’ve been thinking for the past month. Seriously, where the fuck does he get off telling us we don’t take this album seriously?” Scott shrugged, puffing on his cigarette while Stephen continued on his tirade, “Honestly, we could have written a whole other album waiting for him and Jeordie to get their shit together; but one of us has a fucking family crisis, and oh, it’s the end of the world… Fucking prick.”

Stephen took a long drag off his smoke, Scott smirking at him, “You done yet?”

“No, this really kinda pisses me off; if it had been his dad, he’d had just left, and we probably would not have heard word from him for weeks. Kenny tells us, all while being worried as shit, and he gets fucking grief for it? Fuck that noise.” Jeordie came out side and sat on the step above Scott and Stephen, smiling in a way that made Stephen even more angry, “What the fuck do you want?”

“Dude, I come in peace; you need a ride tonight?”

Stephen finished his cigarette, “No, Scott’s giving me a ride; I wouldn’t ride in a car with you if my life depended on it.”

Jeordie looked at Scott, “What crawled up his ass?”

Scott just shrugged, while Stephen fumed, “I’m sitting right fucking here. And don’t act as though you don’t know why my mood has soured; you could have said anything after Brian blew up on Kenny like that, instead you just sat there, looking stupid.”

Jeordie put his hands up in a placating manner, “Whoa, I was really kinda shocked, and didn’t know what to say.”

Scott stubbed out his cigarette on the bottom of his sneaker, “Well, I’m going back inside… excuse me, Jeord.”

Scott stood and walked back inside, leaving Jeordie eyeing Stephen pensively, which just made Stephen even more volatile, “Stop eyeballing me, Christ!”

Jeordie leaned back on his elbows, “I agree with what you said to Bri, but don’t you think it’s better to leave the delegating to Trent?”

Stephen lit another cigarette, “Oh, you agree, huh? Yet you said fuck all, while our friend was having his ass chewed out after hearing his dad’s in the hospital.” Stephen took a long drag, his lungs burning due to his chain smoking, “Remind me never to count on you to stick up for me if shit ever hits the fucking fan, you god damned pussy.” He took another long drag, finishing the cigarette, and tossed it out onto the walkway, “So, yeah, fuck you and your silence in there; save your half assed apologies for Ken, I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

Stephen stood up and Jeordie looked up at him, “You know what? Fuck you too, Steve, you-“ Stephen started walking, and kicked Jeordie in the elbow on his way past, not even trying to miss Jeordie, “Fuck! Steel toed boots, motherfucker!”

Stephen walked in the door, leaving Jeordie sitting on the stoop outside, rubbing his sore elbow and cursing; and stood face to face with Brian, who was openly fuming, his face flush and jaw tight, “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? You trying to start a mutiny?”

Stephen laughed bitterly at that, “Fucking really? A mutiny? Do you even know the meaning of the word? Are you fucking captain of this shit-ship now?”

Dave was standing in the lobby, and he went wide eyed, “Trent- “

Brian shook his head, “No, we’re fucking handling this shit; I don’t want that asshole getting involved in this.”

Trent walked out of his office that was just down the hall from the lobby, “Fucking Christ, you two- “

Brian turned around, and growled, “I said stay the fuck out of it, Reznor.” Brian turned back to Stephen and pointed a finger to his chest, “You better learn your fucking place, Bier- “

Stephen stepped into the finger pointed in his chest, “I’m three inches taller than you, and outweigh you by a good thirty pounds; not to mention, I’ve done a lot more shit kicking in my time than you have, so, I’d think again.”

Trent walked up to them, and even though he was shorter and smaller in size compared to the two of them, they separated out of respect for him; Trent looked to Brian, “Go to my office, and sit the fuck down.” He then turned to Stephen as Brian started walking away and sighed, rubbing his face, “Give me a minute, and I’ll give you a ride home. “

Stephen unclenched his jaw, “Scott said he’d give me a ride.”

“Well, now I’m telling you that I’ll give you a ride; then I’ll give you a ride to the bar.” Trent turned and started walking toward his office, calling to everyone “Get your shit, and get the fuck out of here, we’re done for the day! Christ on a stick, this day….”

Trent walked into his office, and slammed the door closed behind him, not like that stopped everyone from hearing the shouting coming from the other side. Stephen walked through the lobby and to the kitchen, the only things he had to grab was the rest of his cake, and the joints he’d rolled before heading upstairs earlier that afternoon, he also wanted to chug a beer before leaving. Scott walked up to him as he was chugging a beer, “Guess I’ll see you at the bar?”

Stephen finished the beer and gave a wet sounding burp before answering Scott, “I don’t know, this day has gone from good, to great, to fan-fucking-tastic, to quite possibly the worst fucking day I can ever recall.”

Scott smirked and gave a one shoulder shrug, “All the more reason to get fucked up, right?”

Stephen gave a snort, but agreed with a, “Fair point.”

Jeordie walked into the room, giving Stephen a dark glare, along with a wide berth; Scott looked between them, and noticed Jeordie was still rubbing his elbow, “Hey, Jeordie, you bang your elbow?”

Jeordie grabbed his book bag off the back of one the chairs, and put a couple bags of drugs into one of the pockets, “Fuck off.” Then he was out the door with a loud slam.

Scott looked to Stephen, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide, “What the hell is going on?”

Stephen put the joints into the cigarette pack Dave had given him and grabbed the box with the cake in it from the fridge, along with another beer. He opened the beer and had a swig, “I kicked him on my way inside, the little bastard called me Steve.”

Scott nodded, “He knows better.”

Stephen took another long swig of beer, “Yeah, doesn’t mean he’s not still a dip-shitted fucking bastard.” Stephen emptied the beer and threw the bottle in the trash can, then picked up his cake off the counter and turned to Scott, “I gotta meet Trent out there, since he probably wants to tell me to lay off B.W. I’ll see you at the bar in a couple of hours.”

Stephen turned to start walking towards the door until Scott sighed, “You think we’ll make it through this album?”

Stephen turned his head, his mouth a grim line, “No, I don’t think we’ll all make it out of this alive.” Stephen started on his way again, stopping for a minute to talk to Dave, “See ya later, Dave.”

Dave looked up from packing his own bag with a couple notebooks he kept his notes in, “Yeah, we still partying tonight, or…?”

“It’s still on, as far as I’m concerned; I mean, fuck, it’s my birthday. Far be it from me to cancel my own fucking party.”

Dave gave a quick smile, “Guess I’ll see you in a couple hours then.”

Stephen gave a quick wave with his empty hand and headed out the door, and to Trent’s Mercedes, “Well, this’ll be a first…” He stood outside for a few minutes, before Brian stormed out of the studio and to his car, flipping Stephen off silently before he got in; Stephen just ignored him, knowing it’d goad Brian even further. Scott left, giving a small wave and smile to Stephen, which he returned though he didn’t feel it. Trent and Dave finally came out a couple minutes after Scott, Dave locked the door and walked to his own car, Trent stood on the walk way for a moment, looking up at the building, possibly lamenting signing Marilyn Manson, or maybe just admiring the architecture; it was hard for Stephen to say.

When Trent got to the car, he unlocked it and sat in the driver’s seat; he had to roll down the passenger side window and say, “Get in, already,” to get Stephen’s attention. Stephen came out of his trance-like state, and opened the door, sat down, and buckled his seat belt, the bakery box placed in his lap; Trent still hadn’t started the car’s engine yet. Trent rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Look, I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and Brian, but this shit has to stop. I get that you are annoyed at the lack of work getting done, I am too; but, there are ways to nurture this situation without it coming to blows.”

Stephen scratched his head, “The guy blew up on someone who just had their world blown to shit.”

Trent sighed, “I know, trust me, he could have handled that one hundred percent better than he did; but the fact remains, you could have done the same. I know he crossed a line and shit, but you two are supposed to be best friends, do not let this shit ruin that.” Trent started the car, “I’m not saying this as your hot shot producer,” They both smiled a little at that, “I’m saying this as a friend to both of you. Brian is seriously spiraling right now, out of control; you need to be there, not just for the band, but for him, your friend. You two have been through some shit together, and it’s only going to get harder from here on out.”

Trent pulled out of his parking spot and started down the driveway, Stephen mulling over what Trent had just said, “Sometimes friends need the shit kicked out of them.”

Trent nodded, “Yep, but is now really the time for that? Brian is gonna need a hand up in a few months’ time; you can kick him in the ass after that, if he doesn’t straighten up his act. And, if you can, wait until this fucking album is finished, please…”

“I can’t promise anything. He really pissed me off today; not just because of the lack of effort, or what he said to Ken, but insinuating that Ken, Scott and I don’t give a shit about working on this record… Man, I know you know this, but we’ve been busting our fucking balls on this thing, while he and Jeordie act like we have all the time in the world to do this. I know, for a fact, that you have been trying to work on your own album when we’re not getting fuck all done; the faster we get our shit finished, the faster you can really concentrate on your own work.”

“My work right now is getting you guys to work together, and make this album happen. Brian is leaving in May, to go to his cousin’s wedding, or something like that; I figure I can really get Jeordie to concentrate the week or so he’s gone for that, get you guys basically done with the instrumentals. I’m hoping that we can finish a few songs before then, since things have been slow to progress; but I know that once you get going, as a band, nothing short of nuclear war will stop you from getting this record done and into post production.”

Stephen looked over to Trent, “You’re mighty hopeful, for a nihilist.”

Trent cracked a smile, “You’re right, I’m hoping for nuclear war; it’s the only fucking way I’ll ever get all of you assholes out of my studio.”

Stephen had a good laugh at that, “Probably so.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strong language, drug and alcohol use/abuse, and sexual and adult themes. I don't own Marilyn Manson or any members, past or present. I make no money from writing anything, like, ever.

Trent pulled up in front of Stephen’s apartment, “Thanks for the ride, and the talk.”

Trent just shook his head, “Don’t mention it; I’ll be back here in about an hour. I think we all need to get good and shitty after the day we had.”

Stephen got out of the car with a nod, “See ya then.” He walked up the steps and unlocked the door, walking in to see Trista was standing in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but a short robe while talking on the phone, “Could you put some fucking clothes on?”

Trista turned around, looking shocked and somewhat embarrassed, “Yeah, Mom, it’s just Stephen… Mom, no, I’m not fucking him, Jesus fuck… I told you, I’m not ready to come back yet…” She rolled her eyes, “I have nothing there for me; I’m going to start looking for a job here next week…”

Stephen sat on the couch and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he had with him; the cake would have to sit on the coffee table until Trista put on real clothes. As much as he loved picking on her about having sex with him, seeing her underdressed was awkward, due to their long platonic friendship. Stephen lit up one of the joints he had, “You still haven’t put on any fucking clothes, T!”

She hissed at him, “My mom called right as I was about to get in the shower, we’re both lucky I thought to put on the robe.” She went on with her conversation with her mother, “Mom, you know what I meant… I told you, thousands of times, Stephen and I are just friends; and even if we were fucking, which we most certainly are not, I’m twenty-seven, I can make that decision on my own… Christ… Mom, honestly-… I’ve got to go; I’ve got plans tonight…. It’s Stephen’s birthday, we’re going out… I love you, too, Ma; I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye.” She hung up the phone and walked over to Stephen on the couch and grabbed the half smoked joint from him, “Cheese-us Christ on a cracker… My mom is convinced we’re fucking now.” She took a hit, while he tried to avoid looking in her direction, “Seriously, it’s not that bad, Bier; my tits and cunt are covered, I’m still wearing panties and a bra underneath this.” She tried handing the joint back to him, but he gestured for her to take another hit, so she did, “You’re back earlier than expected.” He looked at her and took the joint back, and her brow furrowed, “Everything okay?”

He took a hit, holding it in for a moment before answering her, “Things will sort themselves out.” He took another hit and handed her the joint, “You really going to start looking for a job here?”

She took a second hit, and handed the joint back to Stephen, nodding, “Yeah, if I plan to stay here, I figure I might as well. I looked in the yellow pages, there’s a couple screen printing shops here, and I have plenty of experience in that field, not to mention, a couple semesters worth of credits in design. You look really stressed, want to talk about it?”

He put the roach in the ashtray, “No, it’ll be okay. You better get in the shower and get ready, Trent will be here in less than an hour to pick us up.”

“Trent? What happen to Kenny?”

“His dad is in the hospital, so he’s going back home for the time being. Things got real tense in the studio, so we called it a day early, since nothing was getting done, and Trent gave me a ride home; he’ll give us a ride to the bar. Don’t get all fan girly on him, okay?”

Trista smirked, “He is one of my favorites, that’ll be a tall order; though, it shouldn’t be too bad, since I’ve met him a couple times already. Did I ever thank you for getting me backstage those times?”

Stephen rubbed his eyes, “Will you just get in the shower already? I still have to change and get ready myself, ya know. I want to talk to you about something else, too; but I’d rather do that after you’re wearing actual clothes. We can discuss it while we’re both doing our make-up.”

Her face fell, “Okay, jeez…” She turned and started heading toward the bathroom, “Pushy, pushy.”

“I don’t want to fucking hear you call me pushy, you bossy cunt.” She laughed before closing the bathroom door, and Stephen got up to put the cake in the fridge. He pulled a coke out of the fridge, and the phone rang. He sighed before picking it up, “Hello?”

“You’re actually fucking home? On your birthday? That’s a surprise.”

Stephen smiled, glad to hear his brother’s voice, “William, what’s the occasion?”

Billy sighed, “You know I fucking hate it when you call me William…. Steve.”

“Hey now, motherfucker, William is your legal name; my legal name is not fucking Steve.”

“That’s what you get for fucking with me, tit for tat. Seriously, what are you doing home? I was expecting to leave you a gay message on the machine.”

Stephen took a sip of soda, “We called it a day a bit early, I’m getting ready to go out for the night.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“Guess that means I can’t have any fucking fun, since you’re married with a kid, and another on the way.”

Billy laughed, and Stephen could hear his nephew in the background, “I’d say something, but I’ve got a young’un in here with me now. James, you want to talk to your uncle Stephen?”

Stephen heard a jovial, “Yeah!” and smiled.

Billy laughed, “Alright, here we go, onto speaker phone. Remember, it’s his birthday, and he’s old and hard of hearing.”

Stephen laughed, and grinned ear to ear when he heard James greet him in the way three year olds are capable, “Happy birthday! Did you have cake?”

“I did, it was good. Want to know a secret?”

“Shh…”

“That’s right, shh, don’t tell anybody. You’re my favorite nephew.”

Stephen could hear his sister-in-law, Leeann, call for James, and Billy told him, “Say good-bye.”

“Bye-bye Uncle Stephen, I miss you.”

“I miss you too, bud. Be good for your mom; bye.”

He could hear Billy pick up the phone, and turn off the speaker function, “I notice you didn’t tell him to be good for me.”

“Why would I do that? I need him to give you a hard time, since I’m not there to do it. That made this day so much better.”

“Been a rough one, huh?”

Stephen sighed and took another sip of his soda, “It’ll sort its self out; the day as a whole hasn’t been horrible, just the last couple of hours.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Naw, you don’t want to listen to me bitch; I mean, you said yourself that you wanted to leave a message, not talk to me. My own brother would rather talk to a machine than me on my birthday.”

Billy laughed, “We sent you something a few days ago; doubt it’s been delivered yet, but keep an eye out for it. And before you start cussing at me, it was all Lee’s idea, I just dropped it off at the post office.”

“Sure, blame the pregnant wife; how’s she doing, anyways?”

“Great, she and the girl are both healthy.”

“A girl? You’re gonna have to get in some target practice to protect that one.” Billy laughed, “Is she too busy to tell me hello?”

“Hold on.” Billy shouted, “Lee! Stephen wants to talk to you.”

“For fuck’s sake man, God gave you legs; use them to walk to your wife, and hand her the phone.”

“You would never make it as a married man, just saying; yelling across the house is a must.”

“Mom taught you better than that.”

 Billy laughed, “Mom also yells at Dad from different rooms all the time, you know that.”

Stephen grinned, “She always told us to do as she says, not as she does; I’m telling her that you’re yelling at your pregnant wife, the mother of her grandchildren, next time I talk to her.”

Billy got in a quick, quiet ‘fuck you’ before Stephen could hear Leeann say, “What? You can’t walk to the next room? I had to get up, do you have any idea how hard that is for me?”

“Stephen wants to talk to you for a couple minutes.”

Stephen could hear Leeann much more clearly once she was holding the phone, “Happy birthday, Stephen. How’s your day been?”

“Up and down; better now that I’m talking to you all. Bill said you’re having a girl?”

She gave an exasperated sigh, “Damn it, Billy! He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone; it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“I was surprised. I’ll let Mom know he’s been yelling at you too; can’t believe we had the same upbringing, and he couldn’t even walk you the phone.”

She laughed, “I know, you’d think he’s crippled.”

“He is, in his manners.”

 Lee laughed heartily, and Stephen could hear Billy in the background asking what was so funny; Lee answered with, “Nothing, you know your brother, he’s a clown.”

Stephen could hear Billy say, “An ass-clown, maybe.”

Stephen laughed, “I miss you guys. I’m glad to hear that you and my niece are healthy, Lee; take care of yourself and little James, and make sure Billy doesn’t get away with yelling at you anymore.”

Lee’s voice got thick, “We miss you, too.” Then she muttered, “Ah, hell… Fucking pregnancy hormones…” She let out a sigh, “You better take care of yourself, too.”

Trista walked out of the bathroom, dressed and towel drying her hair; Stephen looked at the clock, “I gotta go. Love you, Lee-Lee; let me say bye to Bill so I can get ready to go out tonight.”

“Love you, too. Billy, say bye to your brother.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. You better take care of those girls, and that boy of yours, William. I’ll talk to you guys soon.”

“You tell my wife you love her, but give no love to me? I see how it is…” Billy made kissy sounds into the phone, “Say you love me, fucker.”

Stephen laughed, “I love you, Billy, in the gayest way possible.”

“Right back at ya. Talk to you later; be good, and don’t get too fucked up tonight.”

“Not a fucking chance. Bye.” Stephen hung up the phone, smiling; then looked at Trista, who was still towel drying her hair, “Fuck yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Trista looked down at her crop tank top and mini skirt, “Yeah? I’ll have to find my boots.” She smiled, “You look like you’re in a better mood now.”

Stephen started walking towards his bedroom, so that he could change his clothes, “Yeah, I feel better for now; talked to Billy, Lee, and James.”

She smiled, “Good.” Then she sighed, “I’m not blow drying this mess…” When Stephen walked into the bathroom, Trista was standing in front of the mirror, pulling her mostly dried hair back into a tight ponytail high up on the back of her head; she smiled at him, “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

He grabbed his cosmetic bag, getting his eye liner out, “Are you ready to talk about the reason you came here?” Trista’s smile fell, and she clenched her jaw, “It’s been just over a month, and the only time you’ve really talked about it was the night you called me, bawling.”

She licked her lips, “Yeah, sure… What do you want to know about it?”

He turned, not even worried about getting ready at that moment, “Was that really the first time that asshole hit you?”

Trista paused in powdering her face, turning to look him in the eye, “Yes, and I hit him back, because I don’t play that shit; then he hit me harder, and it was pretty well on… I guess I should be glad the friend he had there pulled him off of me; and by friend, I mean his drug dealer.”

Stephen turned back to the mirror, “Fucking Christ, Trista…” He sighed, and closed his eyes, “I’m just glad you’re okay; be more careful about the assholes you date from now on, okay?”

“It’s not like he said ‘hey, I hit the girls I date when I’m high on speed’.” He turned back to her, “I did mention that, right?”

“Yeah, and I told you that’s not a fucking excuse.”

She went back to applying her make-up, “I know it’s not. We weren’t even exclusive, not that I was seeing anyone else at the time, but, I didn’t really have feelings for him, so it was easy to leave. The hard part was going to my parents, and asking them to take care of packing up my apartment and shit, while being as bruised and raw as I was.” She laughed, though a bit bitterly, “If it makes you feel any better, I landed a few good blows of my own; and my dad and brother wanted to know where he lived at, so they could handle it.”

“I remember how bruised your knuckles were when you first got here… Did you tell them where that asshole lived?”

She glanced at him, then went to putting on her blush, “Fuck no; I didn’t want either of them to end up in jail because I’m a dumb slut.”

She started putting on her eyeliner, “Good point. No more speed freaks, okay?”

“Damn, guess that means I can’t fuck Jeordie tonight.”

“Fucking gross, T; seriously, that’s the nastiest thing you’ve ever said to me…”

She smiled and turned back to look at him, laughing lightly, “Honestly, I could never be that desperate... Even if my vibrator died for good, I wouldn’t stoop that low.”

Stephen paused in the middle of putting on his eyeliner, “This just keeps getting worse… I really don’t want to hear about your masturbatory habits, okay?”

“It’s not like I do it while you’re here. Why do you think I was wearing that robe when you came in?”

Stephen covered his face with his hands, “Oh my God, shut the fuck up already!”

Trista laughed, “Oh my gawd, are you fucking blushing? You are!” She gripped her sides, laughing hard, “I can’t believe that this is making you blush. Wait ‘til the guys hear this. Stephen blushes at the thought of women masturbating.”

“No, women masturbating is fucking hot; the thought of you masturbating is disturbing.”

She looked down at herself, then back up at Stephen, and jiggled her tits, “Pretty sure I’m a woman.”

Stephen glared at her, “I fucking hate you.”

She laughed then put on her lipstick, glancing at Stephen and his half-finished eye-liner, “Want me to finish you up, or are you going for that look?”

Stephen walked over the toilet, put down the lid and sat down, “I still fucking hate you.”

She walked over to him, laughing as he handed her the eye-liner with a scowl, “I love you, too, fucker. Look up.” He looked up, rolling his eyes up in their sockets so that she could apply the black liner underneath his eyes, “I think I finally found a way to shut you up when you start joking about us fucking.”

“You fucking suck, and not in the good way.”

She laughed, “There, done. Want me to draw on your eyebrows?”

“No, now let me up so that I can finish getting ready.” She stood back and walked back to the mirror, to put in her earrings, “As pissed as I was to hear about what that asshole did to you, I’m glad you’re here.”

She smiled, “Are you getting sentimental?”

“No, I have a penis, I don’t do that kinda shit.”

Stephen ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up at odd angles while Trista laughed at him, “Is that so? I had no clue that having a penis made one unable to have feelings.”

“You been living under a rock or something? Of course having a penis makes one immune to having girly feelings; as many assholes as you’ve dated, I’d figured you’d had learned that by now… The only emotions men feel are anger and aggravation.”

“I think you’re full of shit.” She stood on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek, then wiped off the lipstick she’d gotten on him, “I better start looking for my boots.”

Stephen finished getting ready, then walked back to the living room, to see that Trista had found her boots and was putting them on; he picked up the pack of cigarettes on the table and lit another joint, taking a hit and passing it to her, “What does your mom think about your staying here?”

She handed the joint back to Stephen, “At first she got my need to get away, now she and Dad are thinking we’re shacking up- which is fucking ridiculous, but, whatever… They just miss me, and it’s not like I don’t miss them, but, I really can’t go back there, unless it’s as a last resort.”

“You should have pressed charges…”

She shrugged, taking a hit, “Shoulda-woulda-coulda, as my Ma always says… He’s broken parole by now, pissing dirty anyways.”

Stephen shook his head, “Sounds like he was a real fucking winner, that one.”

Trista smiled, “Not really; did I mention that it wasn’t about feelings, and more about getting high and laid?”

Stephen snorted, “You sound almost as bad as Jeordie.”

Trista smirked, “I did learn from the best in sleaze, ya know.” She took the joint and took a hit, “Don’t act all self-righteous, there have been plenty of fuck buddies in your past; and at least one since I’ve been here.”

Stephen corrected her, “That wasn’t a fuck buddy, that was a one-night stand.” There was a knock at the door, and Stephen went to answer it, “Never mind the fact that of all the fuck buddies I’ve had, none of them were convicted of a crime, that I know of anyways.”

Stephen opened the door to see Trent standing there; Trent looked at Stephen holding the joint and raised an eyebrow, “Are you so fucking stoned that you’re talking to yourself?”

Stephen smirked and handed Trent the joint, “This is good shit, but not that fucking good; I have a friend visiting for my birthday.”

Trent took a hit and looked around Stephen to see Trista sitting on the couch, smiling and waving at him, “You hired a hooker?”

Stephen laughed and turned around to see Trista’s reaction, which made him laugh even harder; her jaw had dropped in a look of aghast, “I don’t know if I should be offended, or take that as a complement to say that I’m looking damned sexy.”

Trent looked at Stephen, then back at Trista, “So, she’s not a hooker?”

Stephen was laughing too hard to be of any help, so Trista shook her head, “Nope, not a hooker; can’t be a hooker if you give it up for free.” That made Trent laugh along with Stephen, “I’m Trista, Stephen’s and Jeordie’s friend.”

A look of recognition went across Trent’s face, then he smiled, “Oh, yeah; I remember you now. You’re the one Pogo had to carry out of the club that night, because you tried drinking Vrenna under the table.”

Trista blushed some, out of embarrassment, and Stephen got control of himself enough to say, “She can’t handle her liquor; she puked all over me on the way to my car… Even after that jacket being taken to the cleaners, it still stank of it.” Stephen pointed at her, “You still owe me for that, by the way.”

Trista crossed her arms, “I wouldn’t have puked had you not given me those ‘shrooms after you guys got off stage.”

“And I told you not to drink hard liquor after eating them; your problem is you never listen to people who know better than you.”

“I couldn’t hear you over Terrible Lie blasting at an ungodly volume in that little club.”

Stephen shook his head and looked to Trent, who was trying his hardest not to laugh at the banter taking place, “You seeing this? It wasn’t the first time the girl had done mushrooms, she knew the goddamn rules; she wanted to try to impress you and your band by swallowing inconspicuous amounts of bourbon, regardless knowing better.”

Trista rolled her eyes while Trent let loose his laughter, “You guys about ready to go?”

Trista stood and straitened the stripped stockings she had on underneath her boots, “Yep, I’m ready; unless Bitter Bier Face has more bitching he wants to throw my way.”

Trent smirked up to Stephen, “Bitter Bier Face?”

Stephen rolled his eyes and shook his head, “It’s a dumb nick-name she gave me years ago; one of the down falls of being close friends with the cunt.” Trent looked to Trista, to see her smiling at that, and Stephen shook his head again, “She likes the word cunt; don’t call her the ‘b’ word though, she’ll throw a fucking fit.” Stephen grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door as Trista grabbed her purse and jean jacket as well, “Yeah, we’re ready to go.”

 

Stephen and Trista kept it up on the friendly banter on the way to the bar the night’s festivities were being held at, Trent kept smirking at the inside jokes and jabs shared by the two. When they got to the bar and walked inside, they saw Brian, Missy and Jeordie sitting at a table already; Stephen could see Brian scowl at Trista when he saw her, but Jeordie jumped out of his seat and grabbed her once they got to the table, pulling her down into his lap, “Hey! What are you doing here?”

Missy smiled, “This is a surprise; how have you been Trista?”

Trista smiled while trying to get out of Jeordie’s grasp, “I’m pretty good, just here visiting Stephen for his birthday.” Trista pulled on Jeordie’s earlobe, “Let me sit in a chair, Jeords.”

“No!” He kept one arm around her waist and grabbed one of the shots in the middle of the table and put it up to her face, “Have a shot, you’ll be more comfortable.”

Trista sighed, resigning herself to her fate and took the shot from Jeordie and downed it; making a face after swallowing it, “God damn it Jeordie, that was spiced rum, not whiskey!”

Missy laughed while Brian rolled his eyes; Jeordie grinned and shrugged, “Sorry.”

Trista patted Jeordie on the cheek lightly, “Now, let me sit in a chair.” Jeordie tightened his grip on her waist, and she looked to Stephen, “Little help, here?”

Stephen took a shot, “Twist his left nipple.”

Trista shrugged and did as Stephen said, making Jeordie scream in agony and loosen his grip enough for her to be able to stand up; though she didn’t loosen her grip on his nipple after standing, “Oh, you got it pierced…”

Jeordie had tears in his eyes, “Yeah, now please let it go!” She twisted it a little further, a sadistic smirk on her face, “Christ, T!”

Trista let go and sat in the chair in between Stephen and Jeordie, laughing with everyone else at the table; Stephen took another shot, “He was awfully proud of that piercing a couple weeks ago, now he looks like he regrets walking around the studio, flashing everyone.”

Trent groaned, “Don’t remind me of that…”

Brian smirked, “I thought you were turned on by it Trent.”

Stephen laughed, “Yeah, we all know you love that kinky shit.”

Jeordie stood up and started walking toward the bathrooms, and Trista called after him, “Hey, I wanted to see how bruised your nip is!” Jeordie flipped her off and Trent shook his head while Trista smiled, “What? Just wanted to see my handy work.”

Missy laughed and got into the seat Jeordie had just left, and the two girls started catching up with each other; Brian rolled his eyes, and looked to Stephen, sliding a wrapped bundle across the table to him, “Happy birthday, from the both of us.” He gestured between himself and Missy.

Missy reached into her purse, “Another small gift.” She pulled out a small parcel and laid it on top of the one from Brian, “Don’t make that face! Open them.”

Trent laughed, “Is he really blushing?”

Brian smirked, and nodded, “He gets like that when he gets presents.”

Trista pinched Stephen’s cheek, “It’s so cute.”

Stephen slapped her hand away from him, and sighed, carefully opening the smaller package of the two, finding a button with Pogo the Possum on it that read “Pogo for President”, “Cool, thanks Miss.” He pinned the button to the lapel of his jacket, then went to open the package from Brian, and found a first edition copy of Pogo the Possum. Stephen looked to Brian, and found him with a small smile on his face, “Where did you find this?”

Brian shrugged, “A small flea market; I knew you didn’t have that one yet, so I figured you’d like to have it, to go along with the rest of your collection.”

“Thank you both.”

Missy smiled, “Now, the two of you kiss and make up; we all know you guys can’t stay mad at each other for ever.”

Stephen made a kissy face to Brian, but Brian rolled his eyes, “Not in front of everyone else, faggot.”

Stephen crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, “I see how it is… You let Jeordie blow you in front of hundreds of people, but won’t give me a kiss in front of ten?”

Brian crossed his arms, looking slightly annoyed, “Getting a blow job isn’t nearly as gay as a kiss on the lips…”

Trent covered his face with one of his hands and Stephen laughed, “You’re right, sticking your dick in another man’s mouth is nowhere near as gay as a friendly birthday kiss.”

Brian took a shot of liquor, “When it’s on stage, it’s not gay, it’s performance art.”

Trista pointed to the small stage where a band was setting up their equipment, “You could always go over there; I mean, since you’re so worried about what people think about your sexuality.”

Missy laughed and Stephen smirked at Trista while Brian scowled at her, “I don’t remember asking your opinion…”

Trista shrugged, “You didn’t, but I’m just being helpful; if it’s on stage, it’s not gay, remember?”

Missy slid a shot to Trista, then picked one out for herself. They clinked the glasses together and downed them, then Missy turned to Brian, “We want to see you two kiss.”

Trista grinned, “Kinky, Miss.”

Stephen laughed while Brian rolled his eyes, “Oh, c’mon Bri, it’s not like I have halitosis or anything.” Brian just shook his head, “Man, I can’t get any love today.”

Trista took pity on Stephen, and gave him a peck on his cheek, he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a peck on the forehead while Missy cooed, “How sweet…”

Trista was trying to clean the lipstick off of Stephen’s cheek when Jeordie made it back to the table, “Why are you sitting in my chair, Miss?”

Missy looked at Jeordie innocently, “I wanted to sit next to Trista and catch up some; I figured that since she abused you, you wouldn’t want to sit next to her.”

Jeordie sat in the chair between Brian and Missy, “You thought wrong…”

Jeordie took a shot while Brian grinned, “You are such a little masochist.”

Trent muttered, “I’m the true masochist here… sitting with you bunch of freaks…”

Stephen slid a shot to Trent and picked one up for himself, “Okay, mister I Want to Fuck You Like an Animal…”

Stephen downed his shot while Trent glared at him, then Trent sighed and downed his shot, picking up another and downing it too; then he stood, “We’re going to need another round.”

Trent walked to the bar, either to order another round of shots for the group or to get away from them and Dave walked up to the table, “Have you all been making Trent miserable again?” He sat down in an empty chair, and noticed all the empty shot glasses, “Or is he being overly generous, and buying us all lots and lots of booze?”

Brian gave a small laugh, “Both.”

Trent sat back in his seat and looked at Dave, “You’re kinda late.”

Dave shrugged, “I ate before coming here; don’t like drinking on an empty stomach.” Dave looked to Stephen, who still had his arm around Trista’s shoulder, “Who’s your friend, Pogo?”

Stephen smiled, “Where are my manners? This is Trista; Trista, this is Dave.”

Trista gave a wave and a smile and Dave nodded, “Pleasure.”

The band took the stage, and the singer introduced them, “Hey, we’re Space Time, thanks for coming out tonight.”

Everyone at the table made a face, and Jeordie commented, “I’ve heard some bad names before, but that’s fucking terrible…”

The band started playing their cover of Soundgarden’s Black Hole Sun, and Trent shook his head, “This singer…”

Trista shrugged, “He’s bad; but the guitarist is cute.” Stephen looked at her and she looked back, “What?”

Stephen shook his head, “I will never understand your affection for guitarists…”

Trista rolled her eyes, “I could say the same about your fetish for Asian girls…”

Stephen smirked, “It’s not a fetish, it is a genuine love.”

Trista smirked and poked Stephen in the ribs as their round of shots were delivered, “Call it whatever you want, Bier.” He slid her a shot and picked one up himself and they downed them together, “I still say it’s a fetish.”

Stephen shook his head, “It’s a preference.” Trista poked him in the ribs again, and he jumped away from her slightly, “Quit that.” She smirked and did it again, and Stephen glanced at her from the corner of his eye, “I will tickle you until you piss yourself.”

Dave took a shot and gestured to Stephen and Trista, “Are they together?”

Scott finally sat down, a lit cigarette in his mouth, “No; though we’ve been waiting for them to hook up for years.”

Stephen smirked, “About time you showed up.”

Trista rolled her eyes; she and Scott had known each other since their teens, having went to the same school, “I don’t know why you guys can’t seem to get over the fact that I couldn’t ever fuck Stephen.”

Stephen laughed, “You could, you just refuse to.” Trista smiled and patted his cheek softly and Stephen turned back to Scott, “Have a shot, or three; you have some catching up to do.”

 

The night progressed with much drinking and joking, remembering of times past and the usual debauchery. After the band left the stage, Stephen, Trista and Jeordie were sitting at the bar, waiting for their order. Jeordie flirting with Trista shamelessly, and Trista laughing off his attempts while Stephen watched on, smirking and smoking a cigarette; when the guitarist of Space Time came between Jeordie and Trista to order a drink. Jeordie snarled, “Hey man, can’t you see we’re having a conversation?”

The guy looked to Jeordie, “Oh, sorry man; I’m just trying to get a beer.”

Stephen just quirked a brow and Trista laughed, “Ignore him, I always do. I’m Trista.”

The guy turned to Trista, “Hi, I’m Jimmy.” He held out his hand to Trista and she shook it lightly, “Can I buy you a drink?”

The order they’d been waiting for was set down and Trista swallowed her glass of bourbon on the rocks in one go, “Sure, if I can come sit with you. I really dug your guys’ set.”

Jimmy smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, and ordered two beers for them, “You don’t have to lie, I know we’re not the best. If you want to come sit with us, sure.”

Trista smiled and stood up, and Jeordie looked dejected, “What the fuck, T?”

She patted his shoulder, “Suck it up, buttercup!”

Then she was off to the table that had a couple of the band members seated at it while Jeordie watched after them; Stephen laughed and took a swig of his beer, “Classic Trista…”

Jeordie looked back at Stephen, “Can you fucking believe that? I thought she was going to give in this time.”

Stephen shook his head, “You should know better; Trista has never shown any signs of wanting to fuck you, Jeord.”

Jeordie took a swig of his drink, “Sure she has.”

Stephen smirked and quirked his brow again, “Oh, yeah? When?” Jeordie’s brow furrowed as he thought back and Stephen laughed, “See, she hasn’t. Give it up, she thought the guy was cute and was likely going to approach him at some point tonight anyways, he just made it easy on her.”

Jeordie scowled, “He did that to hit on her.”

Stephen shrugged, “What if he had? Like I said, you’ve never had a shot, so give it up already.” Stephen stood and patted Jeordie on the shoulder, “C’mon, let’s go back to everyone else.”

“Aren’t you mad?”

Stephen turned back to Jeordie, “Over what?”

“Trista ditched you more than she did me.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, “No, she didn’t; she saw her chance to flirt with a guy she thinks is cute and took it, I’d do the same if I saw a hot broad. Now, stop being a little bitch because you’re too big a slut for even her.”

Jeordie’s scowl deepened, “If I called her a slut, you’d slug me…”

Stephen laughed, “Yep, sure would; but, since you’re just thinking it, I’ll just think about defending her honor.”

Jeordie pouted, “Who’s going to defend my honor?”

“You’d have to have some for that, Jeords.” Stephen took a swig of his beer, “We’re all kinda sluts, Trista included, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You take it to a whole other level though, like, the level beyond slutdom; let’s call it Novaskanktia.”

Jeordie gave Stephen a look and shook his head, “You get to be too much when you get fucked up…”

Stephen huffed, “You’ve seen me fucked up before, this isn’t even close; I’m at the fun part of the night where I’m making up words for things that would otherwise be left indescribable.”

Jeordie cocked a brow, “You think Dr. Seuss was a lush?”

Stephen laughed, “I don’t know, I think he was just really imaginative.” Stephen took another swig, “Now, c’mon; if I stand here much longer, I’m going to have to order another beer.”

Jeordie took a swig of his drink, “Might as well stay here then; you’re always going to want another beer.”

Brian walked over to the bar, and looked at Stephen and Jeordie, “What’s holding you guys up?”

Stephen laughed, “Jeordie is heartbroken that Trista went to flirt with that guitarist she said was cute.”

Jeordie glared at Stephen while Brian rolled his eyes, “She doesn’t want to fuck you, Christ Jeordie, get a fucking clue.”

Stephen laughed and placed a hand on Brian’s shoulder, “Blunt honesty, without any sugar to help the bitter truth down; this is why we’re friends.”

Brian smirked a little, “How fucking drunk are you?”

“Not drunk enough for my birthday, I can tell you that much.”

Brian threw his arm over Stephen’s shoulder, “Let me buy you another beer then.”

Stephen smiled, “That’s totally gay, and I’m okay with it.”

Brian laughed and slapped Stephen’s shoulder, keeping his arm in place while Jeordie looked between the two, “Weren’t you two about to kick each other’s asses this afternoon?”

Brian looked to Stephen, “I think Jeordie’s jealous that he’s not getting in on this.”

Stephen laughed, “He wants a piece of Big Wiener,” He gestured to Brian, then himself, “And Anton LeGay.”

Brian threw his head back in laughter and Jeordie stood up off the stool, “Oh, fuck no… You guys keep your gay-ass man love bullshit away from me…”

Stephen laughed, “Says the guy who’s actually had a dick in his mouth.”

Jeordie stalked off with a, “Fuck off.”

Brian looked to Stephen, still laughing lightly, “Ya know, I don’t know if Anton LeGay works when you have hair…”

Stephen smiled and ran his fingers through his hair, “You’re right… Damn, now I need to think up a new gay porno name…”

Brian slapped Stephen’s shoulder again, “C’mon, let’s order more drinks.”

Stephen nodded and grinned, “Yes, that’s what we need, more booze!”

They ordered their drinks, and once they received them, they made their way back to the group’s table, both of them with an arm around the other. The looks they got once they made it back to the table ranged from shocked, to skeptical, to happy; Missy smiled at the both of them, “I see you guys kissed and made up.”

Brian rolled his eyes some and Stephen sneaked in, planting a quick smack of a kiss on Brian’s cheek, then jumped away from him in a flash and flopped into a chair, “Got you, fucker!”

Brian sighed, but couldn’t hide his smile, “God damn it, Pogo, you fucking sneaky faggot…”

Brian sat down next to Missy while she laughed, “You should have seen your face right as he kissed you… Oh my God, I wish I had a camera….”

Dave was smirking, “You’re mighty quick on your feet when you’re drunk, huh Pogo?”

Stephen lit a cigarette with a smirk, “That, and Bri’s slow after a few.”

Trent shook his head while smirking, “Guess that means we’ll be seeing you at the studio tomorrow, Pogo?”

Stephen shrugged, “I may be too hungover to wake up in the morning.”

Brian rolled his eyes, still smiling, “When has a hangover ever kept you from being a pest?” Stephen just shrugged as he took a drag off his cigarette, “Never, the answer is fucking never.”

Scott looked between Brian and Stephen, still looking somewhat skeptical about whether or not they’d patched things up, “So, this afternoon just never happened?”

Everyone looked to Scott, and Stephen exhaled the smoke out of his lungs, “What do you mean?”

Scott looked around the table, “Well, that you guys were practically at each other’s throats, and now you’re best buds again?”

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head, while Stephen shrugged, “Getting into fights and getting the fuck over it is kind of the fucking point of friendship, right? I mean, yeah, if we were girls, it may take us longer to get the fuck over it; but, we’re guys, this is how we operate.”

Missy laughed, “Did you just explain this as ‘it’s a guy thing’?”

Stephen nodded, and finished his cigarette, stubbing it out, “Yeah, it really is that simple.”

Scott still looked rather skeptical about the whole thing as he gave a shrug, “If you guys say so…”

Trista sat back in her chair, fanning herself with a napkin that clearly had a name and phone number on it, and Stephen smirked at her, “Back, so soon? I figured you’d go home with him.”

Trista gave a cocky smile, “What do you take me for?”

Jeordie scowled, “A tease or a whore.”

Missy laughed, “It’s either one or the other, Jeordie.”

Trista laid the napkin on the table and grabbed Stephen’s cigarette pack off the table, and lit one, “I didn’t want to leave the birthday boy.”

Brian looked at Trista, his eyes narrowing, “Why did you get that guy’s number if you’re just here for Pogo’s birthday?”

Trista took a drag and shrugged, “Might as well have fun while I’m here, right?”

Scott looked at Stephen, “You told me she’s been here for a month.”

Most everyone looked at Stephen, and that caused him to scratch his head, and empty his beer, “Look at that! I need to get another beer; Scott, looks like you need one too.”

Scott looked up at Stephen as he stood, “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re fucking not. Come get a beer with me.”

The two of them walked to the bar as everyone looked to Trista, “He lied to you, not me.”

Jeordie shook his head, “No, you told us that you’re just here for his birthday; so what the fuck is going on?”

Trista looked around the table, her lips pressed together, and Brian’s eyes softened some, “I don’t think she wants to talk about it, Jeordie…” Trista gave Brian a small smile, even though they didn’t really consider themselves to be friends, that didn’t mean that they outright hated each other. “How long are you planning on staying?”

Trista shrugged, “Don’t really know yet, that all depends on if I can find a job around here.”

 

Stephen and Scott got to the bar and Stephen ordered a beer and a shot of whiskey, while Scott eyed him, “I didn’t know that you hadn’t told anyone else… I figured I was the last to find out about her being in town.”

Stephen took the shot as soon as it was set down in front of him and ordered another, “Nope; only person who knew was Kenny, and that’s only because he’s been the one who’s been giving me a ride for the past week. Order a fucking beer.”

Scott ordered a beer of his choice, “What happened?”

Stephen took the second shot as soon as it was set down, then sipped his beer, “Not fucking going into that; if she wants people to know, she’ll be the one to spill the beans.” Stephen took another gulp of his beer, “She needed to get away from her life for a bit, I needed someone outside of the band that I could talk to a bit; all you guys need to know is that her being here has helped the both of out of some personal shit.”

Scott smirked and took a swig of beer, “Have you two finally hooked up?”

“Fuck no! That’d be too fucking weird for either of us…”

“You sure? I have noticed that you’ve been slightly less irritable the past month…”

Stephen shrugged, “Trista’s a decent cook, is all.” Scott laughed, “I mean it, her food is edible; and it doesn’t hurt any that she doesn’t pester me too much when I’m in a lousy mood.”

Scott shrugged, “Whatever you say, Pogo. Why didn’t you tell anyone that she was in town? I bet Jeordie’s pissed about that.”

“Fuck Geordie.” Scott smirked at that, and Stephen took a swig of beer, “As for why no one knew about her being in town, that’s something you’d have to ask her. I told you, I won’t talk about that, I won’t betray her trust like that.”

Scott’s brow furrowed, “Sounds like it’s something unpleasant.”

Stephen shook his head, “I’m not saying another fucking word about this; if you really want to know, ask her.”

Scott smiled, “You know she won’t tell me anything, she pretty much hates my guts.”

“She doesn’t hate you, she just thinks you’re an annoying little pip-squeak.” Scott’s face fell at that and Stephen smiled, “Oh, c’mon, don’t act like you didn’t know that already; Trista’s always been pretty honest with how she feels about people.”

Trent walked up to the two of them, “I’m heading out, if you want a ride.”

Stephen shook his head, “No, thanks man; T and I will get a cab later tonight.”

Trent raised an eyebrow at that, “You sure?” Stephen just nodded and took a gulp of beer, “Alright.” He sighed and rubbed his face some, “I’ve got to get home and in bed… You may not have to show up tomorrow, but I’ve got work to do… so much fucking work.”

Stephen smirked, “I may see you there tomorrow.”

Trent shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, there likely won’t be anything for you to do tomorrow anyways. I’ll see you in a couple days, Pogo; happy birthday again.”

Stephen shrugged, “Alright, catch ya then. Be careful on the way home.”

Trent threw up a quick wave as he walked to the exit. Scott looked at Stephen, “What are you going to do if you don’t come in?”

Stephen finished his beer, “Fucking sleep, what do you think?”

Scott laughed as Stephen ordered another beer, “Yeah, if you keep it up, you’re really going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

Stephen shrugged, “So? As long as I feel good tonight, that’s all I fucking care about.”

Trista hopped up onto the stool next to Stephen and nudged him with her shoulder, “Buy me a drink, Bier.”

Stephen looked over at her, and found her smiling at him, “You want a beer, or are you calling me Bier?”

She rolled her eyes, “You know what I want, fucker.”

Stephen laughed and threw his arm around her, and ordered her a bourbon, “Why you over here with us?”

Trista smiled and leaned into Stephen some, putting her arm loosely around his middle, “I wanted a drink.”

“Is that all I am to you?”

Trista looked up at him, with a wicked grin, “Yep.” They both laughed and Trista shook her head, “Really? I got tired of Jeordie trying to be a prying asshole; either the guy is trying to get in my panties, or he’s asking me overly personal questions.”

Stephen smirked as she took a pull of her drink, “Isn’t trying to get into your panties kinda personal?” She smirked and slapped him lightly, causing him to laugh, “That’s right, I forgot… you are kind of a slut.”

Trista smiled and shook her head, “You’re one to talk.” Trista looked to Scott, “What you guys’ been talking about?”

Scott shrugged, “Nothing much.”

Stephen took a gulp of beer, “We were talking about you.”

Scott opened his mouth but Trista laughed, “I know, I’m not stupid.”

Stephen patted her shoulder, “Scott thinks you hate him.”

Trista shrugged, “Eh.” She grinned to Scott, “You really think I hate you? Do you think I’m that big of a cunt?” She took a pull of her drink, “Don’t answer that, it was rhetorical.”

Scott took a sip of beer, “You’ve never acted like you like me much…”

Trista smiled, “You’re a nice enough guy, Scott; at least you’re not overtly sexist, like some other people in your band.”

Stephen looked at her, “You better not mean me.”

Trista laughed and Scott shook his head, “I think she means Jeordie.”

Trista nodded and took a pull of her drink, “Anyways, I just had to get away from him… Seriously, even Brian was trying to tell him to lay off me. Brian, you know, the guy who doesn’t even like me a little bit.”

Stephen shrugged, “Well, you did reject him…”

Trista rolled her eyes, “He looked like a complete tool, and you know it.” Stephen laughed, “Seriously, what the fuck was he thinking with that damned jacket? Christ, I don’t even think he was wearing that ironically, to be honest… Jesus Saves? Fuck, you can’t wear shit like that at industrial clubs in south Florida and expect anyone to fuck you.”

Stephen laughed and squeezed her shoulder, “He did look like a complete jack ass; but, in his defense, he was new to the scene… And, at least he didn’t try hitting on you after that.”

Trista rolled her eyes, “Yeah, thank god for small favors…” She finished off her drink and swiveled the stool around so that she could look out over the tables, then she slid off her stool, “I have to pee.”

Stephen chuckled and called over his shoulder to her, “Don’t fall in!” Then he turned back to Scott and finished off his beer, “I’m going to order another, then head back to the table with everyone else.”

 

Trista walked into the men’s restroom and leaned up against the door, smirking at Jimmy’s back; she’d seen him walking to the restroom as she turned in her seat, and decided that she wanted to have some fun. “Hey.”

Jimmy jumped slightly, “Shit.” He turned his head, to see her smirking at him, “Uh…”

Trista smiled, “We the only ones in here?” She walked around, checking the stalls, finding them empty, “Good.”

Jimmy zipped up his fly, “Um, what are you doing in here?”

She turned to him, “What do you think?” Trista stalked up to Jimmy, “I think you’re really cute and funny; I wanted to have some fun.”

Jimmy opened his mouth to say something, but Trista stopped him with a kiss; when she pulled back, he looked toward the door, “What if someone comes in?”

She grabbed his hand, leading him to one of the stalls, “That’s part of the excitement, plus, I hear that these stall doors lock; that’s part of the allure of my friends coming to this bar.” She closed the stall door and locked it, then turned back to Jimmy, “Haven’t you ever had fun in a bathroom stall before?”

Jimmy’s answer wasn’t entirely verbal, he pressed her up against the door of the stall and kissed her; she tasted like whiskey and smoke as she moaned into his mouth. He pulled back for a breath, “Yeah, a couple of times.”

She smiled, and ran an open palm across the crotch of his jeans, “Only a couple?” She nipped his chin lightly, “Amateur…” Then she kissed him, and grabbed his crotch, causing him to gasp into the kiss. She smirked as he took control of the kiss, and ran his hand up her sides, cupping one of her tits, “Maybe not such an amateur after all.”

His hand slid her tank top up some, revealing more skin to him; he kissed her neck as he gently rubbed her stomach, “I just wasn’t expecting this.”

She smirked and he kissed her again, “You’re a really good kisser.” Her head rolled back as he ran his hands along her stomach again, “And something tells me that’s not all you’re good at.” The two continued making out until they heard the door open, Jimmy broke the kiss, but Trista pulled his face back hers with the arm she had wrapped around his neck; she muttered to him, “It’s just us…”

The person finished their business and left, and if he noticed that they were in there, he didn’t seem to mind any; Jimmy ran a hand up Trista’s thigh lightly, causing her to giggle, “You okay with this?”

Trista smirked, “Don’t be a pussy, take whatever you want.” Jimmy pulled back slightly and she laughed, “Yeah, I’m okay with it; if I wasn’t, I’d let you know.” She grabbed his wrist and placed his hand up her skirt, at the apex of her inner thigh, “Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Jimmy looked at her in awe, his hand slipping into her panties, “Are you always so aggressive?”

Trista smirked, “Only when dealing with gentlemen.” He slid a finger around her clit and she pulled his face back to hers for a kiss, moaning, “So good…”

One of her hands fisted in his shoulder length brown hair as he continued rubbing her sex with his hand, her other hand occupied by unzipping the fly of his pants and reaching in to grab hold of his cock, causing him to gasp and break the kiss, “Fuck…”

Her strokes matched his as her head lolled back and forth, her eyes rolling back into her head, “So fucking close…” Jimmy wrapped his other arm around her waist as her legs began to shake with her approaching climax, and she could barely think about how sweet that was as she came on his fingers and her knees buckled under her. As she caught her breath, she worked on his belt buckle.

Jimmy withdrew his hand from underneath her skirt, and she pulled his hand into her mouth, sucking his fingers clean while pulling his pants down some. His breath hitched as she slid down into a squat, “You don’t have to-“

She stroked his erection with one hand while smirking up at him, “After that, I feel obligated to.” She licked him from base to head, flicking her tongue over the tip, then smirked up at him, “Fair’s fair, after all.”

She took him into her mouth and his hand went to rest on the top of her head. She looked up at him as she moved him in and out of her mouth to see him gazing down at her, his eyes half-lidded, and she smirked around the girth in her mouth, “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

She pulled back and used her hand in place of her mouth so she could answer him, “I wouldn’t be down here if I wasn’t.” Then she went back to bobbing her head along his erection, her hand now occupied with massaging and gently tugging at his balls. Jimmy gave a shuddering groan above her and she could taste just how close he was to his own end, so she picked up speed, using her other hand to stroke him in time with her mouth. He came a few minutes later with breathy moan and Trista stood up after swallowing all he had to offer, smiling at him, “Thanks for that, it was fun.” They both set about straitening their clothing, and Trista continued smiling at him, “You may want to clean the lipstick off your face before you go back out there.”

Trista unlocked the stall door, and walked up to the mirror over the sinks to straighten her hair and makeup. Jimmy followed her, “That was fun.” She smiled at him, “I can call you later, right?”

Trista wet a paper towel under the faucet, and turned to Jimmy, handing it to him so he could get the lipstick off of his lips and chin, “Of course; you’d be kind of a jerk not to after all that we did in here.”

Jimmy laughed as he cleaned his face, “A proper date?”

Trista pressed her lips together to finish the application of her fresh coat of lipstick, “After a blowjob and finger-bang? Wow, you really are a gentleman. Sure, I’d like that.” Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck, blushing some, and Trista smiled, “No need to feel embarrassed, this is nowhere near the worse thing I’ve ever done in a bar bathroom. You go out first; I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Jimmy grinned at her, “I’ll talk to you in a couple days.”

Then he walked out of the bathroom and Trista followed him out a minute later.

 

Stephen and Scott were still sitting at the bar; Stephen had changed his mind about going back to the group’s table after just one more beer. Scott nudged him softly with his elbow, “There’s Trista. She came out of the men’s room…”

Stephen turned to see her sit next to Missy, with a large smile in place on her flushed face, “Really? Are you sure?”

Scott nodded, “About a minute after that guy she’d flirted with earlier tonight.”

“That dumb slut.”

Stephen slammed back the rest of his beer and stood up, walking over to the stage where Jimmy was helping his band mates pack up their gear; Scott stood up and followed after Stephen while muttering, “Shit.”

Stephen tapped on Jimmy’s shoulder as he joked with the bassist while they were putting guitar cables into coils so that they could be carried out more easily; Jimmy turned around to look at Stephen, “Yeah?”

“You care to tell me what you were doing in the bathroom with my friend?”

The bald bassist looked to Stephen, then to Jimmy, shocked, “You fucked this guy’s girl in the bathroom?”

“Shut your fucking face, skinhead.”

“Whoa, dude-“

Jimmy cut him off, “Blake, shut up.” Jimmy looked up to Stephen, “Trista told me she was single.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, “She is; as I said, we’re friends. You still haven’t answered my fucking question, and, I’m not a patient person.”

Scott grimaced, realizing that this could turn ugly if not handled properly; Jimmy shrugged, “It was completely consensual. I really don’t know why there’s a problem if you two aren’t together.”

Stephen nodded, “I figured it was consensual, asshole; the problem is that since Trista and I are friends, I look out for her. She’s kind of had a shit year so far, and the last thing she needs is some other dickhead messing her life up anymore.”

Jimmy shrugged again, and turned his back to Stephen, “She followed me in there, I had no clue she was even in there until she said something.” He put his guitar into its case, “I think Trista’s a grown woman, and is capable of making her own decisions.”

Scott put a hand to his forehead, “Oh my god…”

Stephen laughed, “You got fucking balls, man; I have to admire that.”

Jimmy turned back around to look at Stephen, “It’s none of your business what happened between Trista and me; friends or not.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what happened, I’ve known her for the better part of a decade and I know that she likes to blow random guys in bar and club bathrooms.” Jimmy just shrugged as he turned back to help his friends pack up, “She may or may not call you, it’s impossible to say with that girl.”

Jimmy shrugged again, “I’m planning on calling her, so, what’s your point?”

Stephen rocked back on the heels of his boots at that, surprised, “You hurt her, you’ll deal with me, keep that in mind.”

Scott looked to Jimmy, who still had his back turned to them, “Sorry man, he’s drunk…”

Stephen looked to Scott, “And? I still mean it.” Scott shrugged with a palliative look on his face, “Good, now shut the fuck up.”

Scott threw up his hands, “Alright, I’m done tonight… Happy birthday Pogo. Don’t do anything stupid and end up in jail; could you imagine calling your mom from jail, on your birthday?”

Stephen calmed some at that, “Yeah, fine…” Scott turned to leave, “Get the fuck out of here; I’ll see you in a couple of days, pussy.” Scott flipped Stephen off as he made his way towards the door and Stephen laughed, turning back to Jimmy, “Sorry man… Get a beer with me?”

Jimmy turned around and looked at Stephen, “Are you for fucking real?”

Stephen gave an awkward smile, “I’m buying; and kinda trying to apologize for being a huge asshole…”

Jimmy looked to his friend Blake, “Is this guy for fucking real?”

Blake looked over and shrugged, “How serious can a guy named after a clown be?”

Stephen laughed, “When it’s about beer, I’m always serious. C’mon, they can finish up without your help.”

Jimmy turned back to his band and they just shrugged, the drummer told him, “You may want to go with him; he may decide to kick your ass after all if you deny him the chance to redeem himself.”

Jimmy sighed, putting his last effects petal in a case and turned to Stephen, “Fine, fuck it; I’ll have one beer, then I have to help them finish packing up.”

Stephen laughed, “No reason to get short with me.”

Jimmy glared at him, “I’m not your fucking friend.”

Stephen sighed, “You’re right… Can we start over?” They sat at the bar and Stephen sighed again, scratching the back of his head, “I’m Stephen; Trista and I have been friends for a long time. I’m sorry I’m such an asshole.”

Jimmy sighed and rolled his eyes, but he did stop glaring at Stephen,” I’m Jimmy, and I’m still not sure what to make of this…”

They ordered their beer and Stephen lit a cigarette, but was unable to say anything more before Missy and Brian walked up to him. Missy looked between the two, “Everything okay?”

Stephen answered with a simple, “I’m an asshole.”

Missy laughed while Brian rolled his eyes, “What else is new?”

Stephen took a puff of his cigarette, “I’m apologizing for it.”

Brian looked at him, “Seriously? You never apologize for anything, most of all being an asshole.”

Stephen shrugged, “It’s a birthday miracle.”

Brian rolled his eyes, but smiled, “Well, that explains it… We’re heading home, if you and Trista need a ride.”

Stephen shook his head, “Nah, thanks though; just ordered a beer, and I’m trying to make amends to Jimbo here.”

Jimmy reminded Stephen, “We’re not friends.”

Brian quirked a brow, “If you decide you want to come into the studio tomorrow morning, call me up, and I’ll swing by your place to pick you up. Happy birthday, Pogo.”

Missy smiled at Stephen, “Happy birthday!”

Stephen gave the two a small grin, “Thanks guys, I’ll see you two in a couple days. Be careful driving home, Miss.” The couple made their way out the door and Stephen turned back to Jimmy, to find him sipping on his beer; Stephen picked up his beer and took a gulp of it, “I’d feel like a real shit if you decided not to call Trista because I’m an asshole.”

“I’m still going to call her; I think you should feel like shit for calling your friend a slut.”

Stephen grimaced, “Yeah… I may have exaggerated there a bit. She’s been known to do such things, it’s not something she does all the time.” Jimmy continued to glare at Stephen, “What? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with casual sex acts, I believe that’s something most of us enjoy; just stating a fact. If she’s a slut, then so am I; I love blowjobs in bar bathrooms, or anywhere else for that matter.” Jimmy just continued to drink his beer and Stephen sighed, “I’m not making myself look any better here, am I?”

“Not really. Calling one of your friends a slut, calling one of my friends a NAZI, and thinly veiled threats of violence towards me are kind of hard to overcome when it’s a first impression.”

Trista sat down beside Stephen after a tense moment of silence between the two men, and looked around him to see Jimmy, then smacked Stephen in the back of the head, “What the fuck did you do, Bier?”

“First off: ow, that’s my fucking head; secondly: I’m a fucking asshole, as you well know.” Stephen looked over to her, “Go hang out with the fucker over there.”

Trista shook her head, “No fucking way, Bier; The Geordster is giving me the cold shoulder… Buy me a drink.” Stephen sighed and obliged her by buying a beer as she looked over to Jimmy, “Don’t take him seriously, he’s not as tough as he acts.”

Stephen took a swig of his beer, “You’re ruining my street cred…”

Trista laughed, “What street cred? You’re white, half Jewish, and lived all your fucking life in suburbia. Fucking cul-du-sac cred, if anything…”

Jimmy smirked as Stephen scowled at her, “I fucking hate you, T.”

Trista took a swig of beer, and grinned at Stephen, “So you’ve told me, about twenty times today.” Trista looked to Jimmy, “This fucking guy… He’s a teddy bear, really. Give me a smoke, BBF.”

Stephen rolled his eyes as he handed her his cigarette pack and lighter, and Jimmy cracked a smile, “Okay, I have to know, what the hell is BBF?”

Stephen shook his head to her as she lit her smoke and smiled to Jimmy, “See this face? This is what I call Bitter Bier Face.” She took a drag as she patted Stephen’s cheek, much to his annoyance, “Cheer up, Bier.”

Trista took a sip of her beer as Stephen sighed, “You got your drink and smoke, now you’re just pestering me. I’m trying to talk to Jimmy here, since I was such a huge asshole to him.”

Trista looked between the two, “Oh yeah? You’re always an asshole, so what gives?”

Jimmy finished his beer, “He got a little protective. I got to pack up my gear; thanks for the beer and talk.”

Jimmy stood and Stephen nodded, “No problem. Are we sort of cool now?”

Jimmy walked off with a shrug and left Trista looking at Stephen, “I should fucking hit you, but with a closed fist, in the throat this time.”

“That’s not very nice, I mean, it is my birthday.”

Stephen took a swig of his beer and Trista shook her head, “I can’t fucking believe you, Stephen…”

“Hey, he’s still going to call you, so chill the fuck out. Yeah, okay, I overreacted; but, given your choice in guys the past couple of years, I have reason to be concerned.”

Trista sighed, “I guess I can’t be too mad at you, since your heart was in the right place… Even if you were likely very stupid about it.”

Stephen made a face, “Stupid may be an understatement… I was downright ugly about it.”

Trista smirked, “You? Ugly about something? That never happens!”

Stephen laughed and finished his beer, “I know, that’s so unlike me… Treating people like shit is something I never do.”

Trista rolled her eyes, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She smiled, “I’m not going to worry about it, you shouldn’t either.”

Stephen smirked, “What’s Jeordie mad at you for?”

Trista laughed, “I think you already know the answer to that; he’s mad that I didn’t tell him I was in town before now, and that I blew him off to blow someone else.” Stephen laughed as she emptied her beer, “I don’t know about you, Bier, but I’m fucking done; if I drink anymore, I’m likely to puke and pass out.”

Stephen nodded, “I think I’m about there with you. C’mon, let’s get a cab and head home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have slightly revised chapters 1-3 of Rock is Dead (my other fic), and am now working on new chapters for that fic; even if it has been three years without an update on it. Be on the look out for an update on that in the next week or two.  
> I want to thank anyone who has read, commented, or left kudos on my works; they really help to keep me writing at a steady pace.


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